Losing His Grip Filling Her Bookcase
by TBucket37
Summary: Hermione is insecure about the way Ron Weasley treats her; she tries so hard to be accepted by students and professors alike, only to be turned down by one of her best mates. But then, she stumbles upon Draco Malfoy, of all people. She begins to see that with a few spells and a little bit less fabric, she can win him over...but will he bring her to the Dark Side?
1. Chapter 1

*Hermione*

The thick wool of warm, fresh pleats played at my thighs as I walked through the chilly August air towards Hagrid's hut. Hogwarts was awash with the crisp ruby, glowing gold, and hazy yellows of my favorite season, and I reveled in the satisfactory squelch of the gooey mud just before Hagrid's door. Harry and Ronald were already there, having gotten out of Herbology early due to a "mishap with the Mandrakes" (of course, I knew it was utter rubbish; Ronald had stuck a Dungbomb into the dirt while Madame Pomfrey was attending to poor Neville, passed out on the cold tile floor of the greenhouse, and the whole pot had spewed chunks of terra cotta every which way); Madame Pomfrey flew past me in a rush, Neville's clumsy feet struggling to keep up with her as they carried the shrieking Mandrakes into the adjacent greenhouse.

I allowed my lips to turn up into a grin and raised the soft lambskin glove to Hagrid's doorknob. The tiny hut was frosted with a twinkling ice that hung on the windowsills like neckties and played about the stairs like crystalline death traps. My black trainers were no match for ice, and I quickly sidestepped the patches while pushing the door open softly, immediately perking my ears up to Ronald's banter: "…And then Harry, Harry, my best mate! Tossed in another Dungbomb towards Shay" (I assumed he was talking about Finnigan, but Ronald had some rather odd pet names for his bunkmates) "and boom! His face!" Ronald fell into a fit of erroneous laughter as Harry shook his head; someone finally acknowledging my presence.

"Hello there, Hermione. How was Ancient Runes?" Ah, Harry. Always so polite, he was. His scruff of black hair was growing out a fair bit too long; for a thirteen year old boy, he exuded at least thirty six. His green eyes peeked out like emeralds lost in a cavern amidst black strands of erratic hair, and I couldn't help but sigh.

"Oh, Harry. Why don't you let me shear that mop of hair? You could really use a cut." Harry shrugged, and opened his mouth to speak, but ever-faithful Ronald interrupted, mouth full of Hagrid's famous rock cake (I'm still baffled by the fact that he actually eats them-I once chipped a molar on a rather biscuit-soft one): "Hermione, you know, you should really cut your hair. It's getting unruly; there's probably a family of squirrels in there! I mean, who are you-"Ronald stopped mid-sentence with my Tongue-Tying curse.

"Thank you, Ronald, for your marvelous insights into my cosmetic appearance. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to speak to Professor Lupin about-"

"Hermione, won'tcha stay? I made cakes!" Hagrid held up one his specialties, his frown fading into the thick scruff of his beard as he watched me shake my "unruly" brown curls to cover my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hagrid. But I simply cannot stay here when the current company seems to think that I'd be better off as a home for squirrels than a conversation. See you in class on Thursday," I sighed, forcing a split smile for Hagrid and a grimace for Harry, who, before I made it out of the door, proceeded to wallop Ronald in the arm.

My eyes filled with silver tears; I stumbled, trainer over trainer, to a boulder within earshot of a large huddle of Slytherins gawking over some item that continued to shroud them in darkness for several minutes, then pop back into sunlight. I despised Slytherins; there was nothing more that I wanted than to concave into a secluded corner of the library and surround myself with books, but at this point, I could hardly see. The rock would have to be a sufficient place to purge myself of the emotional distress I felt towards Ronald.

I was about a mile from Hagrid's hut, and I could see the crop of red hair that was…him. I was just about cornered at this point; the only way back into the castle was to go through Ron and Harry, and I wasn't keen on a stroll through the forest straight ahead. I only had one choice; meander my way through the crowd of Slytherins to what I knew was my favorite little knoll; a cozy spot full of lacewing flies and nargles, as Luna told me.

It was peaceful beyond the snag of the Slytherins, and I needed peace. I pulled the thick sleeve of my button-down uniform across my blood-shot eyes and straightened my burgundy and bronze scarf, positioning it so that it hung exactly in the square of my shoulders. One final sigh and I was headed straight into the clump of snickering Slytherins.

*Draco*

My Peruvian Instant Darkness powder was beginning to filter through my fingers like flickering ashes, and I snatched up the final remnants and stowed them in the small, inky pouch in my book bag. "Aye, Crabbe! Why don't you go stuff your mouth with that whale over there? She's been eying you for a century!" I smirked coolly as Crabbe's mouth hung open, staring at Millicent like a toad eying a large juicy frog.

"What, Malfoy? Duh, did you say something?" His incompetence aggravated me; if only my minions had a little more common sense.

"I swear, Crabbe, you get thicker and thicker with every word you speak. C'mon, Goyle." I shoved Goyle's fat head to face the castle doors, when I caught a thick head of curly brown hair in my peripherals. "Granger, what are you doing here? Can't you see this is an exclusive pureblood queue here? No mudbloods." My eyes flitted up to her deep brown eyes for a fraction of a second, and my heart stumbled in its rhythm. _What the hell? It's Granger, for Voldemort's sake! _

The cunt procured an apple from her bag and tossed it at my perfectly gelled hair, and I snarled as it whizzed just inches past my left ear. "Damn it, Granger!" I clutched at the pockets of my school robes for my wand, but found it hovering towards the bushy-haired girl's hand.

"Give it here, Granger! I'll speak to my father about your…intolerance for superiority!" I was stumbling over my words with this woman…no one made me do that! I turned up my nose at the filthy mudblood and stretched out my palm for the thin stick of wood that would be my only defense against this genius of a…hell, no! What was I thinking? My proximity to the ugly woman before me brought a swift flow of honey-dipped marigolds and my stomach flipped like a dog getting a treat. Damn this woman…Granger simply smirked and shoved on past me, tossing my gorgeous wand into the thick pudding that Goyle was now gorging on. I plunged my hand into the deep cauldron of hideous brown sludge (how did he eat this rubbish?) and stabbed the wand in the direction of Hermione.

The whispered trickle of her voice carried on the wind, but I heard "Protego" just in time to be knocked back by my own bloody Stupefy curse. I was knocked backwards, my body a statue on the grass, and I sighed internally at the only witch who had successfully (so far) knocked me off my feet.


	2. Chapter 2

*Draco*

I flung my black oxfords up onto the dresser next to my bunk and pressed my hands behind my head, exacerbating the fact that Pansy was still banging her tiny fists into the Slytherin boys' dorm door. "Parkinson, you pus-licker, go back to those pussies you call friends!" "I'm exhausted anyway," I mumbled to myself, careful to aim the silencing spell right through the keyhole; it had obviously smacked right into her wrist, as I was plunged into a luscious wave of silence.

"Women! Great in bed, but a load of rubbish for anything else!" I shook my head and pulled off my school robes, hanging them on the gold claw beside my bed. With the first few buttons undone on my shirt, I strode over to the window with a frothing mug of Firewhisky clutched in my fist. The rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team was down in the Great Hall, no doubt stuffing their faces with treacle tart and scalloped potatoes. I had dominated Hufflepuff's Cedric Diggory just two years ago in catching the Snitch, and my team still "Hallelujah'ed" me as I meandered between classes.

Marcus, Adrian, Vincent and I were "best mates," but I had little time for such discrepancies as mates. I had servants and loyal followers and a Dark Mark on my arm to boot. My neck rubbed up against the soft collar of my button-down uniform and I yanked at the fabric, only to find a ghostly scent of honey and marigold flit around the windowsill like a butterfly; always out of reach, but within sight. "Damn that Granger!" I spewed out loud, tipping my Firewhisky too far forward and watching in aggravation as the amber-tinged crimson liquid tumbled through the air like an aerial dancer and threw up all over my shined oxfords. "Damn her to hell!"

*Hermione*

Hogwarts: A History was propped up on my right knee as I furiously scratched yet another essay into the thick parchment folded over the small wooden writing desk in the Gryffindor commons. Fred and George Weasley were quietly (was that even possible?) playing a game of Exploding Snap near the crackling fire, and a few first years were flicking gobstones back and forth in the corner; luckily, they were all rather good, or one of them would be wearing the foul liquid inside the stones. Harry and Ronald were lounging on the squashy armchairs, chatting about Hufflepuff's loss at Quidditch, and I smirked to myself, amused that Crookshanks felt the need to curl around their outstretched ankles and cause Ronald to spasmodically jump every time the cat would come near him.

It had been only a day since he had been so brash about my hair, and, while we were on speaking terms again (thanks to Harry finally prodding Ronald to apologize), I wasn't forgiving him…yet. I was daydreaming slightly, having finished the final "Constant Vigilance!" line for DADA, when Ronald strode over coolly and waved his hands erratically in front of my face.

"'Lo, Hermione? Anyone in there?" Ronald's slightly monotonous drawl brought me back to my senses; the white-gold crop of hair faded from my mind's eye.

"Yes, Rona-Ron?" My eyes closed a fraction of an inch with the shock of bright orange hair in my face so close; I was being smothered by the scent of lime and dirt; poor Ron smelled like a day-old tick.

"Was just seeing if you were finished with my essay. You are brilliant, 'Mione, after all. What's that for?" He pointed to Hogwarts: A History, as though it were a book on Basic Social Skills (of which he had obviously never read).

"For the essay, Ronald. We were assigned to write about a particular auror in Hogwart's history?" From the vacant look on Ronald's face, I realized he was thicker than the chocolate-peppermint pudding from last year's Christmas feast.

"Honestly, Ronald, if you just read the book, you wouldn't have to make me write all of your essays." I shoved the battered copy into my bag, huffing as I struggled to fit it in amongst the other (several) books crammed into the small opening.

"But, Hermione, you know my essays would be complete shit. I can't write without your…expertise." He had used a big word; I rolled my eyes as his grin lit up his face like white-hot sun against snow in Winter.

"Well, regardless, I need to go speak with Professor McGonagall. OWLs are coming up, and I absolutely must be prepared."

"OWLs, Hermione? To my knowledge, we'll be taking NEWTs this year."

My face flushed a deep ruby to match the flames licking at the hearth, and I swung my bag over my shoulder. Damn daydreams, anyway. "Yes, NEWTs! Here you are, Harry," I handed Harry his revised essay (thank Merlin he actually wrote most of his on his own) and straightened my tie, checking the knot to be sure it was aligned perfectly in the hollow of my throat. "I will see you both in Divinations tomorrow morning, bright and early!" I attempted a cheerful smile, which turned out crooked, and grimaced as three Weasley heads turned towards my retreating figure, and, in unison, called out, "Watch out for the!-" But I had already stumbled over the Decoy Detonator, sputtering as the cloud of thick smoke engulfed me, and I fell to the ground; a leaf in a heavy breeze.

*Draco*

I situated my feet up on the final open table, reveling in the shine Firewhiskey had given my beautiful oxfords. Pansy giggled behind her hand just a few rows up from me, smirking in my direction and waving her hands about enthusiastically; the woman made me want to hurl. Crossing my arms, I focused my attention on the ladder leading up to the Divinations classroom (the class was a joke, but it was a requirement for the Dark Arts), and snarled as a thick head of curly brown hair (pulled into a ponytail-how distasteful) trotted up into the room, followed by a rather long pair of smooth ivory legs…I shook my head and yanked out the textbook for DADA, immersing myself in the ink-blotted pages.

"You do realize you're reading that book upside down, Malfoy." Granger sat right beside me, looking erotic and ugly and sweaty and sexy all at the same time; my head spun with her scent.

"Granger, you know you're sitting within 100 feet of me. I can taste the impurity of your blood from here." I smirked as her bushy eyebrows curled downward at that, and she crossed her arms around a thick bundle of textbooks, focusing on a curious spot near the front of the classroom; Trelawney hadn't even arrived yet, and Granger was already taking notes, scrawling in (what was actually a rather nice) font upon the fourteen-foot roll of parchment grasped tightly in her fingers. I slammed the book down on the desk and raised a finger up, motioning for Blaise to come down to my level of the classroom. He strode like a peacock, flashing his bright green-trimmed robes at the tiny first-year Gryffindors, and arrived at our table, scrunching up his nose in the presence of the mudblood.

"Oy, Malfoy, what are you doing within one 'undred feet of this mudblood?" Blaise scoffed as he stepped closer to my side of the house-elf-sized round table.

"Honestly!" Hermione got up from the table and inched her way in between Padma and Parvati Patil, both of whom squealed with delight that Hermione was finally socializing.

"Really, mate, what was she doing over here?" Blaise's eyebrows raised up into his hairline as he crossed his arms.

"She-" But I was cut off by the old witch in all of her gauzy shawls and jewelry, announcing that today we were going to "read each other's tea leaves"

"Mr. Malfoy, do you not have a partner?" The old coot gazed around the room (Blaise had rushed back to sit by Nott) and noticed the only table of three in the classroom. "Ah, Ms. Granger, why don't you sit with Mr. Malfoy here, so we can all be even?" Trelawney's eyes glazed over and she held out her hand, mouth opened slightly; her dramatics were about as interesting as a shit in the loo.

"Yes, yes, you must." I watched with satisfaction as Hermione dragged her bag onto her shoulder and carried it over to my table, her whole face screwed up in disgust.

"Scum," she mumbled under her breath as Trelawney began handing out chipped porcelain teacups, taking her time with each table to explain the day's assignment.

"Tell us how you really feel, Granger," I smirked and tossed my feet back up onto the table.

Notes: Please let me know what you wonderful readers think of these first two chapters! :)


	3. Chapter 3

*Hermione*

I fiddled with the tiny pin stuck to my lapel, waiting for bloody Trelawney to get around to our table (last in the line-up, of course). Malfoy's eyes had screwed down into tiny slivers, and his mouth hung ever so slightly open. I could just see the salmon-pink of his tongue, and my fingers began to sweat slightly. The silence bothered me as it had never bothered me before. _Why am I letting him get to me?_

Trelawney strode over in her specter-like fashion and placed a tiny porcelain teacup with a large "v" cut out of the side closest to the handle in front of me; it had no doubt been Neville's cup a few times before. Trelawney's beady eyes, hazy with the incense smoke vaporizing just above her head (she constantly had something burning in the tiny pots on her desk-made me feel like I was going to get sick) wove a thick line of assumption between Malfoy and I as she slowly wandered back to her desk, folding her hands together and grinning presumptuously towards our table.

"Well, there, mudblood, shall I?" Malfoy picked up the teapot and poured a generous amount of tea into both of the shabby cups, reaching for his with long, thin, pearly fingers. My voice was stuck in my throat as though it were a twig that had caught horizontally in my windpipe, and I hesitantly stuck my forefinger in the handle and pulled the cup up to my lips, pinky finger raised towards the heavens. "Damn it!" Malfoy cringed with his first sip, dumping most of the tea back into the pot. "Earl Grey. Complete garbage, mudblood. Well, drink up," he smirked, eying my shaking fingers holding the teacup as I waited for him to finish his statement, "you are what you eat, after all." I could have sworn I saw his eyelid flicker down into a wink, and, boldly, tossed my tea back into the pot in spite of myself.

"Tsk, tsk, Granger. Your professors will have your head when they find out you've tossed pre-consumed tea back into their teapots." Malfoy seemed to revel in the fact that I was wearing a S.P.E.W. pin, and laughed, "Oh, wonderful! You do realize that those mangy creatures you "support" (he rolled his eyes as he said "support") "made this delightful tea for us! How could you just chuck it after all their hard work? Your greengrocer parents must be so proud to have a daughter like you!"

My eyes felt wet and my cheeks burst into burgundy stains. I couldn't let him win, but he was right…"You foul little cockroach! Those _house elves_ slave over this tea, and therefore, I refuse to drink it! And my parents are dentists!" My hands had become clamped to the edge of the table, and Malfoy and I were nose to nose, quite unaware that the whole class had fallen silent and was ogling the two of us.

*Draco*

I couldn't believe I was within a single centimeter of this…girl whom I had been at odds with our entire career at Hogwarts. My hatred still bubbled up inside me like a broiling pot roast, but her eyes were like melting chocolate…

I slammed my arse back into the wooden chair and shoved the tea leaf guide at her clenched fists. The class had gone back to their enthralling studying of the leaves, but my pristine hearing picked up each whisper, each scoffing statement murmured behind cupped hands. "Damn you, Granger."

*Hermione*

I simply smirked at Malfoy's profanities; as angry as he was about my bloody vehemence, he had never been able to just sit there and curse me out. There had always been an insult behind it; always dung behind the beetle. My voice dropped to a mere whisper as I grinned into his tea leaves, mumbling to myself. There was a tiny serpentine trail of tea waste, damp with the remnants of tea. I thumbed through the guide's index, searching for "snake," finding it just as Malfoy opened his tightly-shut lips.

"Don't bother. The hag is asleep in any case, and honestly, I'm about to jump ship. Do you realize what you've done to my repu-" Malfoy stopped there, staggered by the chill atmosphere that had gone up like an iceberg between the two of us. His voice had fallen silent towards the end of his statement; a rabbit facing the only fox in a den full of carrots.

"Malfoy, if you're going to insult me, stuff it. You've exhausted just about everything you could have said, and I have no words for you." I slammed the guide onto his side of the table and pointed to his "fortune." We both rolled our eyes at the statement: "SNAKE, This is an unpleasant sign of treachery, disloyalty, and hidden danger, sometimes caused by those whom you least suspect; if its head is raised, injury by the malice of a man is predicted; it is also an indication of misfortune and illness."

"Rubbish." Malfoy and I spoke in unison, curling our eyelids downward at the fact that we had spoken at the same time.

*Draco*

"Granger, you really should consider investing in some spectacles. Obviously, you cannot read tea leaves. My teacup clearly holds a ladder, and as the book says it will be a 'promotion, a rise in life.'" I put down the wilting pages of the guide and crossed my arms, smirking in Herm-Granger's direction. She scrunched up her (rather large) nose and stuffed the long roll of parchment into her bag, careful not to glance at me for a single second too long. My head felt fuzzy and I could still smell the intoxicating scent of marigold and honey, but I wasn't about to let on my ludicrous infatuation with that scum of a woman.

She stood up to her full height (probably only a bit over a meter) and turned her head to find Scarhead and the Weasel just seconds behind her; two puppies waiting for their master to hand them a bone. "Harry, Ronald, I believe a visit to Hagrid is in order." She grimaced in the Weasel's direction, and nodded curtly towards Trelawney; the other students were packing up to head to their next class.

I flipped the guide into my bag, figuring I would shove it down some unsuspecting first year's throat, and straightened the knot in the tie at my throat, eying the dirty mudblood as she strode out with her ugly little girlfriends.

Just as she began descending the ladder, she sent a "Leviosa" charm with a tiny balled up piece of parchment my way, smirking as it thumped me right between the eyes before I had time to realize it was coming as quickly as it had. Nott slapped me on the back, but my attention was diverted to the tiny piece of parchment curled up in my fingers; there was a soft scrawling note inside, but that would have to wait for after Quidditch; it was Slytherin's first match against Gryffindor, and I knew Granger would be there.

I was going to wipe the smirk off that slag's face when I caught the Snitch in record time before her precious Scarhead could even blink.


	4. Chapter 4

*Draco*

The pitch was misted with zooming sand from the miniature sandstorms brewing with the banshee-like wind. My brand new Firebolt was slung over my shoulder, reveling at all the stares from the stands it received. Pucey, Crabbe, Flint, Goyle, and Bletchley stood around the trunk that held the Quidditch balls (and Gryffindor's bollocks as well;those pussycats didn't stand a chance with me as Seeker). Crabbe walloped Goyle over the head, who stood where he had been, seemingly unaffected by the large welt forming just above his left eye.

"Crabbe, Goyle! D'you remember the plan I told you, eggheads?" I ran my gloved fingers over the sleek part of my hair, and breathed in the seductive moisture of the pitch; it had rained all of last night into this morning, and my mates and I had been forced to go without practice before the match; not a good plan with two thick bastards as beaters. They nodded their heads like the schmucks they were and I shook my head and pounded Flint in the arm. His gapped teeth split out of his gaping mouth, and he grinned at my presence.

"'Ey, there, Draco! Oy, Crabbe, Goyle!" The two gluttons were stuffing their mouths with some crystal-colored sweet, backs turned to the rest of the teammates. They morosely turned back, lips covered in the fine sugar of the confection, and grinned like two stupid trolls. "Alright, mates," Flint began, pulling us all in to a huddle. "Here's the plan…"

*Hermione*

"Honestly, Ginny, I'm not even sure why we come to these matches. You know Ronald's going to get slaughtered! I mean, look at Crabbe and Goyle! They're complete brutes, and as thick as they are, they know how to hit a Bludger!" I huffed as I sat down, bundled up against the sleek rain that had momentarily run dry.

"'Mione, like my brother always says, 'you worry too much.' Just let him play the first match against Slytherin. Haven't you got a little faith in Harry, at least? He is the youngest Seeker of the century, after all." Ginny gazed out at the pitch, cooing over Harry's thick black shag fluttering in the wind. I swear she'd gone mental after they had begun to see each other.

"Of course I have faith in Harry. He's an absolutely brilliant Seeker, Gin. But Ronald…" I sighed. After the damn Divinations blow-out with Draco I had been attempting to patch up my relationship with Ronald. Parvati and Padma constantly accused me of being "off my rocker" for being so desperate with Ron, but…I wasn't willing to admit my utter attraction to bloody Malfoy. The note I had sent to him would hopefully clear some things up for me, but…well, I would know by the end of this match, if all went well.

*Draco*

I felt the soft parchment rub up against my leg in my Quidditch robes and smirked, cantering my view of the pitch up towards the stands. She was nearly impossible not to see, sitting so close to Loony Lovegood with a great big lion's head (which roared intermittently-that girl was an absolute lunatic) stuck over her blonde hair. Granger was sitting normally; a pristine scarf folded over her clavicle, but her hair was a nest of crazy kinks that flew about in the snarling breeze that tore through the pitch. "Flint!" I called out to our captain, hoping that he would hear me over the screaming wind. He pulled his attention away from Pucey, who was attempting to run through our plan by using mere gesticulations; it looked more like he was putting on a puppet show. "Flint, ten thousand galleons says I get the Snitch within the first quarter of the game. You in?" I smirked, rubbing my fingers around a tight pouch of the small gold coins.

"Ay, Malfoy. You're a right old git; I don't bet against teammates. 'Ow about asking old Scarhead? Bet he wouldn't mind a gamble…'e's gonna lose, 'neeway." Flint's tongue scraped over his jagged, gapped front teeth and I shook the bag of galleons.

"You're right. What have I got to lose? I'm the wizarding world's finest Seeker; better than the 'Seeker of the century'." I strode coolly over to the scruffy-haired git's team and yelled, "Alright there, Scarhead? Willing to bet I get the Snitch in the first quarter? Ten thousand galleons if you get it first." I winked at Ronald, whose cheeks flamed, matching his hair; he looked like a ripe tomato with all that red on his fat face. The half-blind Seeker lowered his eyelids over his emerald eyes and crossed his arms against his scarlet robes.

"Right, Malfoy." He pointed to his chest. "Remember when you last retrieved the Snitch before me? I can't. Shove those galleons up your arse; I don't bet on first match."

Ronald chimed in, "My brothers are the only two Gryffindors who bet, Malfoy, and…" He spluttered, running out of courage as his eyes roamed the slick broom mounted atop my shoulder.

"Well, then, Weasel, Scarhead," I addressed them respectively. "Guess you two will just have to dry your eyes when Slytherin wins this match…and the cup. Best of luck…you'll be needing it." I turned around, smirking, and heard Harry knock a wand to the ground, yelling, "No, Ron! You'll only get us disqualified!"

*Hermione*

I watched as a skirmish involving Harry, Ron, and the Ferret quarrel about what I presumed to be some sort of bet the Ferret had proposed. As my eyes bored a hole into Malfoy's back, I watched (in slight horror) as he turned around and gazed right back up at me, spearing me through the corneas with his beaming, sunshine-slice of a smile. He…he smiled at me? My palms sweated through the lambskin gloves that Ginny had given me last Christmas, and I gasped.

"What is it, 'Mione?" Ginny asked, turning back to me from having been chatting with Luna exhaustedly about Nargles for the past twenty minutes.

I quickly composed myself, looking back at her flaming orange, straight hair and shook my head. "Oh, nothing. Harry and Ron were just fighting over some stupid bet with Malfoy." She and I stared down at the pitch, where the boys and Angelina and Katie were mounting their brooms and Madame Hooch was releasing the Bludgers and hauling out the Quaffles. She blew her whistle, and the match had begun.

*Draco*

The match was flying past me…literally, as I zoomed in and out of the audience towers in search of the zipping golden line of the Snitch's path, buffering myself against the shrill wind. Potter was on my heels, but my Firebolt kept him just behind as I leaned forward, smelling the break in the rain that meant the Snitch was nearby; the golden scent of pure victory rested on the air like a genie, content with its distance from its master. "Oy, Ferret boy! Watch out for that-" Damn it. I had conveniently been so intent on catching the Snitch and concentrating on the wind speed that I had forgotten about the goalposts, and my torso folded horizontally as I smacked into the tall beam and slid down onto the pitch. Mocking me, the Snitch flitted back and forth just feet above my head, where my broom now hovered awkwardly, before falling at my feet. The Snitch seemed to humor the audience as it teased my agonizing headache further.

Bloody Scarhead was pulling into a hairpin dive to scoop up the Snitch. I heard a rather long, loud chant from the Gryffindor side of the stands: "Potter, Potter!" I was not about to be humiliated by a damn orphan.

*Hermione*

My fingers clutched the railing of the stands as I leaned forward, watching as Malfoy and Harry stumbled for the Snitch. Malfoy was re-mounting his broom and Harry was mere centimeters from the Snitch…

*Draco*

I kicked my feet back into the foot pegs on my Firebolt and ground my teeth together with concentration. "Give it here, Potter!" I pressed my broom forward, the controls jeering faster and propelling me headfirst towards the Slytherin audience tower.

*Hermione*

Ginny gawked at my proximity to the edge of the stands; I was so far leaned over to watch the happenings down on the pitch that I was positive she thought I was about to jump out of the stands and race down to help the teams. But Malfoy, in all of his pureblood glory, hurtling at breakneck speeds towards the green and silver tower, shot out his green-clad arm, pressing his fingers around the golden ball and swerving up at the last second to charge up towards the heavens, victory plastered over his features. In spite of myself, I cheered, raising my fists in delight that he had won. I watched as those nearest me converged into a seething mass of anger and rage at my inability to root for my own house. I quickly reseated myself and shoved my hands beneath my arse.

*Draco*

Victory! I had caught the Snitch! Now, all I needed to do was find out from Flint if it had been in the first quarter. By his sickly-sanguine grin, I knew that I had. I flew in circles a few times before zooming back to the pitch, Snitch still clutched in my freezing fingers. My whole body snapped back to life (and the freezing chill that sliced through my body like a scythe) as I touched down and dismounted, joining in the victory chants with my mates.

*Three hours later*

*Draco*

Dressed to the nines in a pair of plaid briefs and a Muggle "Come to the dark side; we have cookies!" t-shirt, I stretched out my legs and rested my bare feet on the table, snatching up the crumpled piece of parchment from my tiny bedside table. Anticlimactically, I tore it open and scanned the beautiful, handwritten font. In sweeping, iridescent emerald ink, the note said: "Go Slytherin!" Signed below the script was a tiny, still-glittering scarlet inscription of "Hermione" with a tiny heart dotted just beside it.


	5. Chapter 5

*Hermione*

The weekend had finally come and allotted me a generous three hours to catch up on my growing list of tomes to read. Today's literature was simply for pleasure as I extracted The Casual Vacancy from my messenger bag, tucking my long legs beneath me in the cushy armchair of a secluded corner in Hogwarts's library, and opening the crisp pages of the book. Just twenty pages in, and I heard a scuffle of noise behind the bookcase I was leaning my armchair up against; Ronald's drawl slurred into a bogey-filled cough as he turned the corner and turned up his lips at my presence.

"'Mione! Fancy seeing you here!" Ronald pulled up a ladder-backed chair and sat before me, twitching his fingers into tight balls.

"Hi, Ron." I dog-eared the page in my book for later and set it on my lap, adjusting the soft pleats of my skirt that played at my knees. Ronald was eying where my legs ended at the hem of my skirt, and I cleared my throat, bringing the blood back to his blushing face.

"Right. Umm, 'Mione?" His face still matched his hair, but now he was flicking his tongue out and grabbing at his bottom lip with soft white teeth. He may not have been astoundingly attractive, but I had always been secretly excited by his presence; maybe it was because I always felt superior in intelligence compared to him. Merlin, I sound like Malfoy. Malfoy…I shook my head quickly and raised my eyebrows, looking back into Ron's cotton-blue eyes.

"Yes, Ron? What is it today?" I smiled, this time allowing the grin to reach up into the corners of my eyes, and noticed Ron relax a great deal at the tension being released like a deflated balloon into the air.

"Well, Hogsmeade's open this weekend, just to sixth years…and, well…" Ronald's Adam apple bobbed in his throat, and I was so worried he was about to get sick all over the library's floor (poor Madame Pince!). "Wouldyoucomewithme,Hermione?" His words stuck together like gum in a child's hair, and I shook my head.

"Umm...sorry?" I bit my bottom lip, genuinely concerned about his current physical state.

"Hermione Granger, would you want to come to Hogsmeade with me? I was thinking we could go buy some Drooble's and Bertie Bott's, and…" He was becoming more and more nervous as he spoke to me, and I felt the tension creep back into the air like a Dementor.

"Oh, Ronald. Of course I'll accompany you to Hogsmeade! However, I do ask one thing of you."

Ron's eyes lit up as though on fire as he nodded towards my request. "I would like you to take me flying on the Quidditch pitch later on, after we finish our shopping." I wasn't about to let on my motives or true inspiration for this genius plan, but if it all fell into place…I grinned in spite of myself, and watched as Ronald moved towards me quickly, pulling me into a crushing bear hug as he scooped me out of my chair.

"Ron…Ron!" I screamed as he squeezed me tighter, his ginger hair tickling my nostrils with its soap-mixed-with-corned-beef-flavored aroma. He relinquished his bruising grip, and plucked his wand from his jeans pocket, procuring a small cluster of daisies, which wilted slightly in his tight grip as he enthusiastically pressed the bouquet into my shaking fingers. I was rather impressed with his newfound knowledge of spells. "Oh, thank you, Ron. Umm, would you mind?" I gestured to the disregarded tome sitting in the warm dip where my curled body had been just moments ago, and Ronald's grin dropped just a fraction of an inch.

"Oh, but of course! Thank you, 'Mione! Er…have a nice read! I will meet you in the Gryffindor common room at 11 tomorrow." He grinned again, sweeping me up into a gentle hug this time, pressing clumsy lips to my cheek, and loping away excitedly. I shook my head, grinning in spite of myself; my plan was working out, alright.

*Draco*

I kicked off the thick, mud-crusted trainers from the Quidditch match against Gryffindor and tore off my drenched robes, tossing them into the hamper beside my dorm; they disappeared quickly, vanishing through the floorboards to the elves below me. Hermione's small parchment note was conveniently tucked into my copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, curling up at the end where I had refolded it. Just as I had removed my shirt, I heard a shriek pierce straight through the Slytherin dungeons, darting into my dorm. Yanking on a pair of jeans, I shoved the door out of its frame and rushed down the stairs, following the other Slytherins down into the Main Hall, where a small group of Hufflepuffs was tossing sparking FireBombs at each other; it was a war! I scooped up a discarded shell and sprinkled the flaming dust into a rather ugly Gryffindor first year's head, who screamed as his hair licked up the ashes and breathed them into curling tongues of flame, enjoying the terror of pureblood superiority.

*Hermione*

The damn first-year Gryffindors were screaming, "War, war! It's a war!" Their battle cries floated up into my dorm, and I ran down, having no time to throw on a robe over my rather minimal clothing. The crowds had dispersed, but unfortunately there was one boy left, tossing the final FireBombs into Snape's dungeon as the smoke lifted excruciatingly slowly. His golden-blond hair was flecked with gray and orange ash and embers, but he twirled on a bare heel as he heard the claps of my heels on the grand marble stairs in a rush.

His mouth hung open at my appearance, and I flushed deep scarlet, turning back the way I had come when I remembered what I was currently wearing. On my weekends, I wore the most prostitute-looking clothing I could find, but I typically didn't leave my dorm room; however, when the threat of war had been announced, I became wary of the possibility of danger. cgi/set?id=83532071

This outfit was mostly for comfort while I cuddled up beneath the thick quilt my mother had sewn for me; I wasn't easy by any means, but the outfit I had on was much more comfortable than school robes. Malfoy caught up to my retreating figure and smirked. "I think I'll just take you to the Room of Requirement, mudblood. If you don't mind, put on the cloak of invisibility tucked into my back pocket," Malfoy smirked, satisfied at my embarrassment as I attempted to touch him as little as possible, drawing out the cloak and quickly tossing it over my freezing, bare skin. He flipped me off my feet, carrying my now-invisible form, and Disapparated to the seventh floor.

Notes: Hello my lovely readers! I apologize for such a long time for an update; I've given you a little bit of a filler chapter before the best chapter (to come). I hope you enjoy this, and get excited for some delicious drama and gorgeous romance! Thank you all for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

*Draco*

Three pacing shuffles past the cool expanse of wall where the Room of Requirement and a string of "I need somewhere to be alone with this mudblood," murmured under my breath, and a wrought-iron, black doorway materialized before me, opening its entrance like a great maw, eager for my presence. Granger's long legs were peeking out of the invisibility cloak and I set her down on a cushioned bench as I surveyed what the room had supplied me with.

In the corner were millions of books shoved crudely into a measly ten shelves; they overflowed onto the floor, and as Granger removed the cloak, she pranced over to the shelves, apparently reveling in the fact that these were titles she had never read before. I was momentarily distracted by her cleavage as she leaned over to pluck a large tome from the bottom shelf, struggling with its proximity between the other books on either side of this one. I allowed a chuckle to escape as she tugged at its spine, the small ruffles of her panties twitching up and down against her round bum…

I quickly turned to see the rest of the chamber. There were some gauzy curtains hung over a four-poster with a large collection of pins stuck to them; I strode forward to see the logos and slogans stamped on them closer. One was a S.P.E.W. badge…typical. But another was a snake symbol (I grinned and plucked it from the dusty fabric, pinning it on my belt loop, and watched as several of the pins' images zoomed and spun from one pin to another; a light show on the curtains.

Another pin showed an image of a small dragon wrapped around an otter; its long snout curled down toward the otter's outstretched paws. I cocked an eyebrow at it, and then felt a warm finger (or was it a wand?) press into the back of my neck. I snarled, pulling out my wand, and wheeled around on the ball of my foot to find Granger standing a mere centimeter away from me, holding a book in her thin fingers. "Malfoy, I believe this is yours." The title was _PMS and You: Dealing with the Pain and Hassle of Cramps_. I chucked the book the short distance between us, but a silent "Leviosa" charm had flitted into the air just seconds before; the book hovered right between us like a barricade.

*Hermione*

I flicked out my hand to pluck the book from the air, and my heart plunged into erratic depths of pulse as Malfoy's fingers closed right over mine. His eyes twinkled ever so slightly as he drew the tome from my grasp and replaced it in the shelf.

"Mudblood, I'm glad I was able to find you. I have a bit of a…proposal to make," Malfoy smirked, crossing his arms over his smooth chest.

"Actually, Draco, I must be going. I promised Ronald I would accompany him to Hogsmeade." I bit my lip slightly; I needed just a single confession…

His face fell the smallest fraction of an inch; he quickly composed himself, but I was positive he knew I had seen his disappointment. "Well, then, Granger, I shall be off. I'll be at the Quidditch pitch this evening, practicing…" He winked, his eyelid barely falling closed, as he strode out of the Room of Requirement; as he passed my halfway-clothed body, he trailed a finger on the skin showing between my corset and panties. I broke out in goose pimples and froze in place for a good quarter of an hour before flicking my wand to dress into more appropriate attire for a stroll through Hogsmeade, leaving a small book propped up against the curtains, just below the dragon/otter pin. cgi/set?id=83806548

*Hermione*

It was impossible to Disapparate within Hogwart's walls, but I managed to sprint rapidly enough, even with the heavy cloak flung over my shoulders, that it seemed I had in fact Disapparated to the Gryffindor common room. At this point, all I had on was a blue belted ponte dress and a pair of pale pink brogues. My nimble fingers tossed my wand in a blue snakeskin purse, and my pulse quickened as I realized that I now carried a bag that reminded me of the one person who baffled my sense of normalcy; he was just such a conundrum…ah, damn, I needed to stop ruminating on this pipedream of a fancy, or I was going to be late to meet Ronald in the common room. I placed a pair of gold studs in my ears and finished off the outfit with a small heart necklace pierced with a tiny gold arrow. Merlin, everything I wore anymore reminded me of my current infatuation with the…Slytherin Death Eater!

I heard a scuffle down in the common room, and I would have bet a thousand Nifflers that it was Ronald and Harry; indeed, as I descended the chute from the girls' dorm, I saw Ronald fidgeting with a stuffy tie at his throat, and Harry attempting to charm Ronald's unkempt scruff of orange hair into a center part. I shook my head, pulling out my own wand from the purse in the crook of my arm, and flicked it to the side, causing Ron's hair to part straight down the middle, smoothing out on either side. He guffawed and announced to Harry: "I swear, that woman could part the Red Sea like she did my hair, mate! She's amazing!" As endearing as his adoring gaze was in my direction, I felt little emotion besides pride in my own ability and a strong maternal sense towards Ronald; nothing else.

Ron grinned again, hooking his arm through mine sanguinely, and we headed out into the bright spring sunshine. I was so grateful for the warm weather so that I could wear one of my special outfits for…Draco. I smiled secretly to myself, hoping that somehow today things would work out for me to see him. Maybe…but that would have to wait for later. "Ronald?" I plastered an enthusiastic smile on my face as I turned towards his gorgeous green eyes. (I may not actually be attracted to him, but if there was one thing about him that I truly liked, it was his eyes.) His face blushed like a Remembrall and then spun into a beaming Hufflepuff-golden grin.

"Yes, 'Mione? Would you-"

"Umm, Ronald, could we stop by The Three Broomsticks? I fancy myself a frothing pint of butterbeer." My arm began to sweat where his was closely wrapped around mine, but I tried to push the discomfort from my mind so as not to disturb the easy cheer that Ron was currently exuding.

His features shifted slightly on his ginger-sweet face, and he itched at the cufflinks sitting on his slender wrists. He looked sharp in the sport coat and navy slacks, but he held little interest for me besides being a catalyst for the one I truly wanted. I felt bad for using Ron, but I did know that I still wanted to be friends with him. However, I wanted nothing more than that. He stopped us in our travels (we had already been passed through by McGonagall, who had brightened her usually stoic composure at Ron and I being together) just beyond the castle's courtyard. "Hermione, I would love to have a drink with you, but can't we stop by Honeydukes first? I had a surprise for you waiting…" He trailed off, looking disappointed at my insistence.

I sighed, but lit up my grin like a firecracker so as not to make Ron suspicious; he put his arm around my shoulder and tapped me on the nose (which made me want to get sick). "Well, I suppose. I've always wanted to try the "soap" flavor of Bertie's…" I attempted a giggle, which came out sounding more like a gargled cough, and tried to pass it off as a sneeze.

Ronald's eyes lit up; "You've never gotten a soap flavored bean? 'Mione, you're bizarre. I'll give you all the chocolate ones if you try one soap-flavored." He smiled, squeezing me around the shoulder his hand was clamped down upon. As sweet as his offer was, his attempted romance was actually only getting on my nerves (especially when he delved into a monologue about the different flavors one could get in a sack of the beans). My mind wandered off into slithering depths (I chuckled at the pun, and was graced by it being at a most opportune moment during Ron's drawling speech) of fancy, imagining a certain boy's smooth arcs of chiseled abdomen…Just as I had begun to daydream about the Ferret, a raucous explosion had zipped through the High Street, crackling into big bangs of wizards Apparating onto the High Street right in front of Honeydukes.

Ronald and I clutched our wands, approaching the scene rather cautiously as we noticed several Death Eater's hooded robes attached to the most pursuant of fighters. There were ex-D.A. members strewn about, flashing their golden coins high in the air and shouting "Dumbledore's Army!" to the chagrin of myself and Ronald. I brandished my wand like a sword and flicked it through the crowd, knocking over the Death Eaters closest to me with stunning spells as I yanked Ginny from the throng of fighting, and sighed in relief as I saw Ron tugging a rather ruffled Terry Boot out of the uproar. After much berating banter between the four of us, Ronald and I were able to convince the two of them to scram. There were several more D.A. members, but Ronald pulled me into a swift embrace as I brushed off my dress, and I realized that my shoelace had come undone…Damn. Those other members would have to wait.

Not a second after I had bent down to knot it, I heard the silken, poisonous drawl of none other than Draco Malfoy. He was centered in the mob of Death Eaters, and I could see that his sleeve was pulled up to reveal his sleek Dark Mark, shining on his arm; he was speaking to his father in a sketchy, half-hearted manner. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was on his way…I quickly pulled myself up to my full height of one and half meters, and grabbed Ron's arm. "Ron! We must get out of here!" My voice peaked like a sword's tip raised to the sun, but Ron was preoccupied with Malfoy's current situation.

*Draco*

"Father! I can handle this on my own! Lestrange and Karkaroff took off regardless, and these are all just Half-Blood students!" I yanked my left arm from my father, who had just pressed his own scaly finger to my Mark and summoned the Dark Lord. He was always such a coward; pressing my Mark would only get me killed instead of him if the Muggleborns and Half-Bloods were no longer a threat to his most loyal followers. Scarhead had been in Honeydukes just minutes ago, and that was the main reason for my father to call the Dark Lord, but he had vanished back into the castle mysteriously when I had run into the tiny sweets shop. We were left with a group of rogue students who claimed to be part of "Dumbledore's Army," but I knew this was complete bollocks compared to the Dark Lord's intentions of killing Dumbledore. I needed to get on the inside…needed to talk to…well, her. But at this point, I needed to flee the scene. My father was punishing me enough for not coming to see him on holiday, but I had been busy stalking the bearded man of Hogwarts during the rare moments when I could actually find him or his ugly phoenix, Fawkes.

"Draco, you do realize that you cannot simply 'hide' from the Dark Lord. Find Dumbledore and kill him now, or I will hand you over to the Dark Lord myself!" His serpentine whispering of a voice irked me to no end, and I briefly had the urge to stun him.

I composed myself somehow, and dispatched the remaining Death Eaters, letting out an obnoxiously long breath when Yaxley whispered fleetingly in my ear: "Dark Lord won't make an appearance, but you best be leaving, Draco. Luck on your NEWTs!" He mocked, laughing maniacally as he ran like a leprechaun outside Hogsmeade's boundaries, and then Disapparated, as the rest of the Death Eaters did. I was left on the High Street amidst a small string of trembling first years who quickly fled as I flipped the hood back up on my robe, striding towards a shock of orange hair. "Weasel! Scamming off of the greengrocer's daughter, are we?" I smirked in the Weasel's direction, and plucked out my wand.

*Hermione*

I was never too slow on the uptake of someone trying to curse me or someone right beside me, but Malfoy was able to stun Ron before I could even blink. "Damn it, Ferret! You evil little…" But before I could get any more out, he had deftly applied a Tongue-Tying curse to my lips, and shoved me beyond Hogsmeade's barriers, summoning his Firebolt and placing me on the ground just beside the broom as we arrived (by Disapparition of course) next to the Quidditch pitch. The curse had been lifted from my lips, and I stood there stunned before him. He hovered just a foot above the ground, his trainers snug in the foot pegs, and he smiled.

I had never seen Malfoy smile before; not genuinely, at least. But the corners of his lips turned up and the warmth of his happiness reached his eyes.

*Draco*

"Hello, Hermione. I'd like to treat you to a ride, since you weren't able to get one in with the Wea-with Ronald. Would you care to join me?" I knew I was probably shocking her with my abnormal behavior and near-polite speech, but I couldn't fight the attraction I had towards her. She hadn't exactly done her hair for her "date" with Ron, but her dress fit her curves nicely, and the jewelry and shoes matched her complexion sweetly. "It's only a few cycles 'round the pitch, 'Mione." I used her nickname, and she blushed a deeper red than blood itself.

"Umm…how do I get on? I've honestly never mounted one before…even in Madame Hooch's class, I-"

I swung myself off the broom and strode over to her, placing her left hand in my right hand. She let me lead her to the broom, and I laughed. "Well, now you'll have to straddle the broom. I'd like for there to be a more comfortable option for you," I said as we both remembered her wearing a dress, "But, riding a broom side-saddle can have disastrous consequences. Would you like me to help you?"

*Hermione*

My heart was practically palpitating at Draco's (I had finally said it!) gentlemanly manners, but I figured I'd try it out myself; after all, I wasn't about to become some damsel in distress, not even for this handsome man. Merlin, was I off my rocker! "I'll do it myself, thanks. Draco, should I ride in front or behind you?" I had stepped over the hovering, slightly-vibrating object and sat awkwardly in the middle in front of the foot pegs.

Malfoy straddled the broom backwards right in front of me and grabbed onto the broom hand over hand, scooting forward. I watched the small strands of buttery blond hair fall into his silver eyes, and the sturdy lines of his jaw pull up into a smile. He had let the robe fall from his shoulders and had removed the hood. "You can sit in front of me, so I always know where you are," he said, smiling like a sanguine hyena. I raised a tremulous finger up to his robes' collar, and pushed it from the cream-colored collared shirt he wore beneath.

*Draco*

Her fingers brushing my collarbone sent my body into a hormone-induced tornado, and I pushed my body forward, pulling her toward me by the small of her back. She pushed my robes off my back, and I raised my own hand to her cheek, running my thumb across the soft skin. "Damn, Granger. I've really been missing out on a gorgeous creature." I smirked and quickly re-straddled the broom, placing my feet in the pegs behind her and wrapping my arms around her hips.

*Hermione*

Draco's hands were settled just over my navel, and I could feel the rapid nerves in his thumbs pressed up against me through my dress. "Hold on to the broom, Granger. Wouldn't want there to be a massive spill of dirty blood all over the pitch." Well, I figured his romantic façade wouldn't last long. But then a soft pair of cool lips pressed against the back of my neck as we took off into the air. "Don't worry, love. You're currently sitting in front of the most nimble Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen." And then the broom seared up through the sky like an eagle diving in reverse; I felt the inertia pull at my navel, but also felt the warm, slender fingers of Draco's pressed up against the pressure. I tried hard to stifle the calming sense of relaxation that I felt; a happy sigh was threatening to escape.

*Draco*

I flew the two of us around the pitch a few times, never letting Hermione out of my strong grip. She smelled like honey-dipped marigolds as usual, and I breathed in her scent like this was the last time I would ever smell it. I was not acting like myself whatsoever-and I loved it. With her, I felt like the most bad-arse man around; like I was the king of the world. (Well, honestly, I was king, but now I had a queen who wasn't a total cunt). Sure, I needed information from her to infiltrate Dumbledore's defenses and kill him, but I also wanted to infiltrate her defenses, and get her to open up to me like one of her books to her. The pitch was beginning to darken with the threat of dusk, and I took the navy-smudge of sky we flew around to be a sign that I ought to get her back to her common room; I knew she would be anxious to get onto the ground and start studying for NEWTs. Her fingers were now twisted together and placed over mine, and as I brought the broom down (with no hands-I was the best Seeker there was, and flew my broom with her from my wand and a few spells), I wanted nothing more than to just put us both in a Leg-Locker's curse and tie us to this position together forever.

But I sounded like a whiny cunt with that thought, and tapped my feet down on either side of the broom just in front of the Hogwart's castle doors that led out to the Quidditch pitch.

*Hermione*

"Well, thank you for that...Draco." I blushed as I finally said his first name aloud, twisting my hands together as I dismounted and stepped away from his broom, which he summoned towards the castle with a flick of his wand.

"No, thank you, Ms. Granger, for gracing me with you presence. I wish you the best of luck on your NEWTs, and the sweetest of dreams this evening." He kissed the back of my hand, and, like the serpent he was, slithered away after his broom and robes, leaving me with a high even better than one on a broom.


	7. Chapter 7

*Hermione*

I crinkled my eyebrows in concentration as I frantically copied the notes from my torn copy of _Spellman's Syllabary; _the pages were woven between my fingers with the specific images required for study. I only had four left; my thumb resting on the current one I scribbled onto the parchment, when I heard a loud cough from the other side of the bookcase I sat beside. If it was Ronald, I was going to have his head for letting his damn owl, Pig, snatch up the spine of this poor tome and drop it onto Crabbe's toe. (I have to admit, the latter part of the happening was rather amusing, but as I watched the book tumble through the air, I had felt my heart plummet with it, watching in utter agony as the spine bent like Lupin's during his Animagus transformation.)

Malfoy slipped onto the scene (damn that boy and his serpent-like tendencies); Ronald's pale neck caught up in his thin, pearly fingers. "Mudblood! Fancy seeing you here. Care to keep your weasel in its cage, where it belongs? I found this schmuck in the Restricted section, poking his dirt-covered nose in the dark magic books!" I saw Malfoy's upper lip twitch upwards, pulling his taught cheek towards his silky silver eye, and he winked at me.

I decided to play along, realizing his true motive for being in the library-I doubted that he ever came in here on his own free will, regardless-and cursed before saying, "Malfoy, get your loathsome little Pureblood hands off of him," and yanking his smooth fingers from Ronald's shoulders.

"Malfoy, you git! Next time you rouse up the party, why don't you first make sure that tree branch up your arse is out first, yeah?" Ronald scoffed, tossing off my arm gently as he rubbed the back of his neck in ire.

"Weasel, at least I can afford a broomstick, much less a tree. You can't even afford trainers, so you borrow that little cunt's…what's 'er name again?" Malfoy looked genuinely perplexed, so I cleared my throat and drew my wand from my robe's pocket, pressing the tip into Malfoy's throat.

"It's Ginny. And if you ever threaten one of the Weasley family again, Malfoy, I swear your mother won't even have ashes to bury at your funeral." I scowled up at him, half a meter before him, as he coolly stared back into my chestnut-hued eyes.

"Muggleborn, you couldn't even mutter a spell in your head in my presence. I'm far too stunning," Draco smirked and pulled up his collar as though he had just been named "Most Handsome Warlock"; he reminded me excruciatingly of Lockhart. (He actually was attractive, but I wasn't about to announce this with Ronald in such close proximity.) "But I'll be leaving now; it smells like dirty blood and…well, weasels." He chuckled as he strode away like a fox, his fingertips toying with something in his pocket.

"What are you playing at, Hermione?" Ronald asked as I turned back to his scarily-happy face. "That was bloody brilliant!" He scooped me up into a hug right then and there, but I frowned slightly.

"Ronald, do you remember when we went to Hogsmeade, and when Malfoy-" I was worried he might know that I had snuck (well, really, I was snatched) away with Malfoy.

"Merlin, Hermione! That was the best evening of my life!"-He had finally traded in his humdrum language to something a bit more sophisticated; and I do mean a bit-"Honeydukes was the perfect spot for your surprise…and the look on Ginny's face when she realized that her brother wasn't such a right git!" Ronald stared dreamily just to the left of my ear, obviously having been implanted with false memories; no doubt courtesy of the Serpent himself.

"Right, Ron, it was…erm, pretty brilliant. Well, I do have quite a bit of studying to do…" I gestured to the syllabary, pressed between the armchair's cushion and back rest and the miles of parchment that now lay crumpled at the foot of the armchair.

Ron's face fell a full quarter of a meter before he pulled the corners of his mouth up like braces on trousers and scooping up the mountain of parchment, depositing it in my arms, seemingly in a trance. "I see you're busy, Hermione, and I respect that," he grinned, "so I will leave you to your business." He stabbed his freshly chapped lips into my cheek, nearly licking my earlobe before pulling away and washing his face with a bright red dye in embarrassment.

"Right, well, er, thanks Ron." I leaned forward with the rolls of parchment bundled up in my arms and kissed his cheek quickly. "See you tomorrow in Care of Magical Creatures. Don't forget, Hagrid's making us use the bloody Nifflers again…" I trailed off, immediately wondering if Malfoy would actually be coming to class or not. He found Hagrid to be an "ugly oaf," and therefore usually skipped class to go shag Pansy in the North Tower. (I only knew this because Lavender Brown had once come screaming out of the tower, covering her eyes and hurtling blindly towards the Great Hall, yelling, "Merlin's saggy left arse cheek, they're at it again!"

Ron pulled me out of my reverie as he handed me a small box of what I assumed were chocolates, and shyly stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked away. I pulled off the top of the box, discarding the parchment on the armchair, and realized they were not chocolates at all.

Inside lay six golden charms and a gilt bracelet ringed around them; a charm bracelet, and an expensive one at that. I arched up a bushy eyebrow at the package's contents as I sat in the armchair to more closely inspect the charms. One was a gorgeous, miniature version of a house elf with a tiny S.P.E.W. badge attached; another was a tiny otter, floating on its back with a crab nestled snugly in its petite hands; another was a tome opened to a page that pronounced: "Hermione Jean Granger: most beautiful witch in all the wizarding land;" and there were three tiny charms to remind me of my favorite "Muggle" things: a gilded toothbrush, tiny lawn trimmer, and a rubber duck. (I assumed the last one was a rather charming attempt at a joke.)

But even as I was pulling the bracelet over my wrist gently, noticing that it fit absolutely perfectly, I wondered how Ronald Weasley could have ever even dreamed of affording such an expensive gift. He was obviously infatuated with me, that much was clear, but unless he had inherited a fortune from Fred and George with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes business, he must have borrowed the money…

And then my wizard side of my brain caught up to the pragmatic side of my brain, and I understood completely. Ronald had never inherited a fortune, nor researched a more romantic tone; he had been hit by a false memory charm when Malfoy had taken me on the ride around the Quidditch pitch, and had just been under an Imperius curse this whole time by none other than the famous Draco Malfoy. I smirked as I pulled the parchment back into my arms and went back to studying, a new-found sparkle at my wrist each time I flicked my quill.

_Notes: Ten thousand galleons to all my followers and viewers of this story! I hope you enjoy this next chapter-just a bit of fun. I enjoy comments, but appreciate your support in reading nonetheless! (Also, just to clear things up, the "braces" referred to in this story are suspenders, instead of the metal cages for your teeth.) Thank you all again, you lovely Dramione fans! :)_


	8. Chapter 8

*Draco*

I rolled up the stiff sleeves of my uniform beneath my heavy school robes and ripped off the starched emerald and silver scarf from round my neck. "Damn that mudblood, Parkinson!" Pansy was like a leech, stuck to my side as I stalked off Hogwarts grounds from the bloody fantastic Care of Magical Creatures class. "She can go shag that Weasel, for all I care!" Pansy's eyebrows tilted at an odd angle as I said my final statement, and my ire peaked, bringing me to a standstill. "Damn you, Pansy," I said as I Disapparated off the grounds to the Quidditch pitch.

*Two hours before* (Draco's Point of View)

The sun was high in the sky but in the March air, it warmed up little but the cotton-clumps of white streaking across the sky. Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Zabini were the only three other Slytherins in this farce of a class; the rest were all Gryffindors and arses (Hufflepuffs). I smirked as I watched the bouncing curls of Hermione fly around her gorgeous face, which had pulled into a myriad of shock at my presence; I never came to this class but to berate the ugly oaf who taught it. Naturally, we were forced to partner up and choose a Niffler per pair; the assignment was simple but absolute rubbish: get the most gold with your Niffler. I caught Hermione's eye as partners began to gravitate towards each other, and was able to divert her attention from the Weasel's obvious intent on being her partner. He grimaced as she strode over to me cheerfully, crossing her arms. "I hope you know that I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do if I partner with you," she said.

"Perhaps, Hermione." I smirked again as I said her real name, and reveled in her jaw-dropping scowl. "Hey, now, don't tease me. You know I like a girl with an irate side." I winked as I chose a Niffler and stroked its snout, setting it loose on the ground as it scuttled around in search of the gold coins that the oaf had no doubt buried just minutes ago.

I gazed back at the large clump of Gryffindors, cocking my head up threateningly at Weasley's wandering eye that immediately landed on Hermione's arse bobbing up and down slightly as she attempted to scoop up all the gold that our Niffler was tossing up above-ground. "Hah, your Weasel's jealous of all the gold we've gotten. No doubt, he's never seen this much currency in his lifetime." Hermione scowled again, drawing her features into a sexy pout that lifted more than just my spirits. Zabini was huffing as he worked with Parkinson, who was attempting to yank their Niffler out of a large patch of dirt; no doubt they had gotten the one defective Niffler who decided to go after the decoy chocolate coins, and was now glued into the ground with the charm that stuck its jaw bones together with its finding the chocolate.

It obviously didn't want to come out of the ground with no defense; Niffler teeth were herbivorous and tiny, and underground was their only mode of defense. Hermione shrieked and I averted my attention back to her; our Niffler was trying to yank off her bracelet (which she had worn, much to my bittersweet chagrin; wasn't she smarter than that?), and she was tugging with all her might on the dainty little ring of charms. The damn Weasel saw the scuffle and quickly rushed to her side.

*Hermione

The Niffler whose snout was caught on the tiny gold otter charm was spreading its acquired wealth onto the other Nifflers, who quickly began to converge around the tiny party of students circled around me. Ronald was attempting to pry the one Niffler's snout from the bracelet, but the other Nifflers were quite interested in getting to the other charms. I began swiping my wand through the air trying to shield myself without hurting the poor creatures, but they were relentlessly permeating the spells and competing for the closest proximity to my bracelet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Hagrid lugging a large cage over towards the fanfare. A few tears fell down onto my cheeks as Malfoy strode over coolly, seeming nonchalant about the situation with the other students present.

"What's goin' on, 'Ermione? Git, you ruddy creatures!" Hagrid swiped several of the Nifflers into the charmed cage, who squirmed as they were piled on top of others. As soon as Hagrid saw the bracelet that was snug around my wrist, he shook his head. "Hermione, t'at's real gold! Nifflers will kill for real gold!" I shook my own head as Ronald scooped me up in his arms, away from the creatures retreating with Hagrid and Harry's charms.

In Ron's arms, I gazed over at Malfoy's face, and screamed, "How could you do this, Ferret? You knew Nifflers loved real gold! You gave me this-" I ripped off the bracelet, chucking it at his head, "Trying to kill me, practically! You are absolute scum!"

"Really, mudblood?" Malfoy said, striding right up to Ronald and I as the other students began to pack up their bags and Hagrid dragged the large cage now full of Nifflers back up to his hut, groaning and shaking his head, speaking with Harry. "You were the bloody cunt that wore that damn thing! Always seeking attention, are we? You are a pathetic excuse for a witch. Even those Muggle parents of yours must be ashamed to call you their precious _mudblood _daughter." A wash of melancholy poured over my features; I was mirroring Malfoy's face, bright red in ire and upset. He picked up the bracelet and, holding it in his hand, he melted it into a thick circlet of gold with his wand, shoving it on his middle finger despite the curls of smoke signaling its heat.

I buried my head in Ronald's shoulder as Malfoy stalked off with Pansy like a tick at his side, growing with his bloody anger.

*Draco, Present time*

I pressed my arse onto my Firebolt, zipping around the pitch like an enraged Snitch. That damn woman…how could she just…why would I…I smacked into the Slytherin tower, forgetting all my rage as I again fell excruciatingly towards the sandy dirt below me. I let my body tip to the side, not cognizant of the lightning-rod pain in my spine. Somehow, I still hadn't convinced that gorgeous witch…at this point I just wanted to charm the searing golden circlet suffocating my finger into a spear and shove it straight into her heart so she would know what I was going through.

"Oh, stand up, you bloody wanker, Malfoy," a familiar voice hit my ears like an anvil. Blaise. "Damn it, Blaise, I don't have time to converse about your fantasies of Pansy in that damn _Victoria's Secret _Americanbullshit."

"Malfoy, stand up." Blaise yanked me into a standing position, shoving his athletic hands beneath my armpits and grabbing up my broom, flicking his wand to lead it back into the castle. "You didn't just come here to practice; I know."

I crossed my arms and smirked. "Think you know everything about me, do you, Zabini? You know nothing."

"Malfoy, honestly. Pull out the stick from your arse and realize that you've never been all that fantastic at hiding your true emotions. I know you have to be the one to kill Dumbledore, you hate Parkinson, and you desperately want to shag the mudblood…er, Granger."

I didn't care enough to widen my eyes like the typical social convention at his knowing so much about my secret life, so I just swung my fist in an uppercut to his thick jaw. "Bollocks, Zabini. I don't give a rat's arse if you do know all that. You're a right git, and knowledge has never been able to save anyone from their destiny. So go shag the mudblood yourself, for all I care. I'm off to find the oaf who thinks he's in charge of this bloody castle."

But he yanked my arm, smirking. "Bet you'd change your mind if I told you that I was able to stupefy Ronald and capture the little cunt myself. She's waiting for you in the Slytherin dungeons, tied up on your bunk. Do what you will, but give me back my school tie when you're finished, wanker." He smirked again, letting me go and crossing his own arms.

My mouth crooked into a smirk to match his and I nodded. " I have the perfect punishment in mind for that damn mudblood. Out of my way." I shoved him aside, pounding across the flagstones into the castle in pursuit of my woman. Oh, there was hell to pay for that little curly-haired freak.

Notes: My Aragog-sized apologies for the long gap between chapters; I've been tinkering with this chapter and where I wanted it to go for quite some time! I'd like to thank all of my followers and reviewers; your comments and appreciation make me so happy! Hope you're excited for the next chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

*Hermione*

The sickening drip of Malfoy's broken basin was Chinese water-torture against my ear drums, and the scratchy polyester of Zabini's school tie bit into my hands with its Full Body-Bind Curse. The damn wizard, Zabini, had stunned Ron and hit me with the curse moments after Hagrid had finally caught up the last Niffler, and he'd dispatched poor Hagrid with a Tongue-Tying curse, Disapparating with me to the Slytherin dungeons. I refused to allow even a single tear to escape from my eyes, clouded over with exhaustion from sitting here for so long. I sighed with exasperation from being unable to move. Leaving me to my own devices with only my own thoughts for company, especially at this time, was the cruelest thing he could have done…but then I heard a soft creak to my left; I was unable to move my head, but I could have sworn a glittering beam of light flashed from the threshold and hit the long mirror propped up beside the window of the dungeon/dorm.

The flash had simply been the Ferret's sleek blonde hair. "Hello there, Mrs. Granger," a familiar drawl screeched across the floorboards and onto the cotton sheets at my bare knees; Zabini had been so kind to remove my robes and skirt, and I was Leg-Locked in nothing but my knickers and the required burgundy polo for school. "You know, normally I would be utterly appalled at spilling such dirty blood over my sheets, but…you've really earned your way into my most hated queue there, love." Malfoy had come to stand in front of his bunk, glaring at me with his silky silver eyes. I might be paralyzed, but I could still talk…

"What did I do to you that was so horrible?" I tried to raise my hands with my ire, but I was like a dummy with no movement available save for my lips. "All I said was that you gave me that blasted bracelet to lead me on into thinking that you fancied me, and then you show up after an absurdly long absence from class, on the _day _that we had to work with Nifflers! You obviously had all of that in your disastrous plan, you…you…righteous bastard!" My mouth spewed a few globs of spit with my hissing ire, but Malfoy was completely unperturbed by my vehement speech.

"Oh, Granger," he began to pace up and down the length of the end of the bed, "You really do know it all, don't you?" He turned his ruffled blonde hair back towards me, hopping up onto the bunk and pressing his brutish fingers into my thighs. "Guess again, mudblood. But, now that I think about it; that would have been a brilliant plan to retaliate after all this time…wish I would have thought it up myself. Oh, and just to clear it up, I found this in our-the Room of Requirement. It's a bit late now." He tossed the book at my frozen figure, and I bit my lip in sorrow as the curse lifted from my face, allowing movement above the neck. My eyes tightened in their path as I realized he had found it: the small tome of poetry. _Opposites; the Perfect Complement to Each Other. _He scowled as the book settled in the triangle of space formed between my legs. "If that was your idea of romance, you might only get the toad. No prince would ever want to kiss you; a dirty, mudblood scum of a witch. You can't even defend yourself; you just-" But the curse had been lifted from my body down to the ends of my fists and I shot one forward, bashing his cheek so that his face twisted an inch to the side.

"Damn it!" Malfoy sprang from the bed as his lip began bleeding, and I smirked in satisfaction as he shot his thin pink tongue out to lap up the blood dribbling from the point of impact.

"Oh, wittew Dwaco's hurt!" I said, pouting my lip out in mock sadness. My rage, in fact, was building. I wanted so badly to make him feel more pain, but at the same time…I just wanted to kiss his lip and sop up all the blood for him.

"Oh, shut your ugly trap, mudblood," Malfoy sneered as he yanked his wand from his school robe and aimed a Tongue-Tying curse at my lips.

"Missed me," I smirked, now holding my own wand with satisfaction at having blocked his curse with a shield charm of my own.

*Draco*

I scowled at the witch before me. She was seemingly my only competent enemy…perhaps why I was so attracted to her. I threw off my robes, yanking my own polo off my head and striding over to my wardrobe, finding the smallest pair of shorts I had and rolled them into a ball, chucking it towards her head.

*Hermione*

I watched the assailing ball of polyester fly towards my head, and raised a fist just in time to catch the clothing and slip them beneath the sheets. It took a bit to struggle with them to pull them up onto my hips, but they fit well enough, and at least now I wasn't so…exposed. Draco had pulled out his wand and was carving a painful path of letters into my arm; I mustered up the strength in my other arm to grab my own wand to disarm him, but he had tossed my wand off the side of the bed and his grip on my right arm was of massive strength.

"Now, Mrs. Granger. You and I both know that I did not present you with that bracelet to bring a torrent of those bloody Nifflers upon you. While I've got you here, I must give you my proposal finally. After all, there's no Weasel to save you this time," Malfoy smirked, running his marble-like fingers over the streaked blood marks on my arm. I looked down to see that my arm was now shining with the scarlet message: "Go Slytherin! Draco Malfoy is my hero."

I scowled, attempting to pry his fingers from my arm so that I would be able to snatch up my wand and heal my fresh wounds. "Malfoy, you simply cannot expect me to believe that. We've been sworn enemies throughout our time at Hogwarts, and not once have you given me a gift that wasn't also a prank or calling me a foul name." I winced as he pressed his wand tip to the words, solidifying the font like a ruby scar.

He looked down at his wand for a second as though he were regretting having hurt me, but then his gray eyes stormed over like marble balls of steel and he relinquished his grip on my wrist. "Like I've said, you really think you know it all. But I have a favor to ask you. And, seeing as you're branded with my name, I don't see you having much choice in the matter." He smirked, and I crossed my arms, unwilling to give in to anything he wanted.

"I need you to…tell me some things about our headmaster-er, Dumbledore." I placed my left hand just before her right knee, leaning on it so that we were only inches from each other. "Also, as I'm sure you saw in Hogsmeade," Malfoy turned his left arm so his palm faced the ceiling and his Dark Mark scowled up at me, "I am a Death Eater. Therefore, should you decide to betray me, I'll…have to use you as collateral." He smirked once again, his lips curling into his signature curvature of his light pink lips. His right hand came to brush against my cheek, dragging the errant curls from out of my eyes. "I don't want to hurt you, Hermione. But, I need information from you, and…there's no other way to get it from you. I understand you hate me. All I need-"

I had covered his mouth with a hand, unable to bear the lies (or truth?) coming from his venomous maw. "Malfoy. I can't. I've been a supporter of Dumbledore's army for so long…I couldn't betray him to your side like that. I'm sorry; I ought to go." And I stood from the bed with a flourish, plucking my wand from its niche between the bunk and Draco's trunk.

"Hermione. I…I don't want you to go." I bit my lip as I kept my back turned to him. "I do fancy you. Damn, this sounds pathetic, but you really are beautiful, 'Mione. Ronald obviously sees it, and he's a lucky chap to always be in such close proximity to a lovely creature like you. Damn, why am I having such trouble with words? Would you look at me?" His voice had raised a few pitches, bringing my fear of him right back.

*Draco*

She turned back to me, but her sepia eyes were brimming with tears. She clutched her arms around herself, wiping her right eye with her small thumb. "Have you studied for your NEWTs, yet?" She stuttered, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Out of all the things you could worry about, you choose to ask me if I've studied for our damn examinations?" I guffawed again, holding out my left hand. "I know it's late, but…I want to show you something. Would you come with me?" I was clutching at straws here, but tonight was purely for the two of us. I decided to wait and ask her later, when I had her curled around my finger, how best to get Dumbledore alone. For now, I was going to seduce her with my charms.

She cocked an eyebrow, sniffling as she unwound her arms from her torso. "Mal-Draco, I don't have proper clothing on." She gestured to my halfway-clad body: "And you're not exactly presentable, either."

I simply smiled. "Hermione. Trust me. No one will be out on school grounds, and if they are…" I smirked, flexing my left arm. "I can take them."

Hermione's lips turned up in defiance of what I saw as concern, and I could take the questions and insecurity no longer. I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to hers softly before pulling away and striding over to my wardrobe where I had a few women's clothing pieces stashed (I was often caught in the act by one of my mates, and often times, I ripped apart the girl's clothing, so I kept spares in my wardrobe), where I found a softly distressed pair of Muggle jeans and softly-flowing green tunic.

*Hermione*

My core was on fire with the inane feelings I had towards Malfoy at the moment. I felt like an eleven year old Muggle first learning that I was a wizard; as though the lingering taste of peppercorn and cream from Draco's supper was a spell uttered onto my lips.

*Draco*

The sweet salt of tears and a hint of what I recognized as Drooble's sashayed on my bottom lip, and I couldn't help but to lap at the reminiscence of Hermione. She emerged from the washroom, and the green tunic lit up her eyes with an emerald reflection that aroused my thoughts with the image of her in a particular green corset and black panties…I cleared my throat and dragged a vivid-green and silver-trimmed robe over my head, grinning mischievously. Hermione's eyes widened, bringing the sweet green flickers in her eyes to life even more vividly as she said "Is this another of your disastrous plans to somehow get me killed?"

I couldn't help but laugh as I pulled her close to me with a single arm around her waist, the moonlight mirroring the gray in my eyes, and then scooped her up in my arms. I flicked my wand in my wrist and evaporated the smooth crystal of the window. I hopped out of the dorm, Hermione shrieking in my arms.

Notes: Thank you once again, all you lovely readers! I apologize greatly (like Grawp greatly) for my long absence in updating; I promise the next chapter will not be such a long wait! Once again, thank you all for reading this! Comments are appreciated, but most of all, I hope you enjoy a little slice of Dramione!


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